High Society
by butidon'twantapenname
Summary: Pride and Prejudice, host club style.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's note: First off, I believe that this is where some sort of disclaimer goes...but you already know that. _

_Secondly, before you see that it's written in 1st person, please understand that this is not a self-insertion story where I get the host of my dreams. Yes, there will be original characters paired with more original characters and host members alike. When I was writing, 1st person just seemed to fit better. As I get more written, however, I am becoming more displeased with how it is sounding. The POV will most likely change in the near future. _

_This is the only anime I watch, and it only because a series of strange events much like the ones leading to Haruhi's first kiss. With that in mind, I would love some input on anything that needs changing.

* * *

_"Please, please, please Amaya?" 

I let out an audible sigh and turned away. For all its artificial appeal, there was a certain natural beauty here, too. A gentle breeze blown over the walls surrounding the campus tousled the glassy surface of the pond. A bird hidden by the thickening canopy of leaves above us let out a single sweet note. The idyllic scene could have made me forget the matter at hand in a heartbeat, if only Naoki would stop pestering me.

I swung my head back around, keeping my eyes focused on the ground. "Why can't you just go by yourself?"

"I don't want to go without you…."

"But I don't want to go at all," I sighed again.

"Not even to meet Tamaki?"

The school year had barely started, but already the halls were full of tales of the Host Club that had filled my cousin's head until it was all she could think of. She told me that she wanted to see what all the fuss was about, which was only a sugarcoated way of trying to cover up what I already knew. She was terribly boy crazy and would love nothing more than to spend as much time as she could in the company of handsome boys whose job it was to fawn over her. She didn't care whether I felt lonely, she just didn't want other people to think that she was desperate for company.

I looked at her, and as soon as I met her eyes, she pulled the pouting face that she always used on me and somehow managed to make her eyes fill up with water.

I shifted on the cold bench, rearranging my skirts. Naoki was still watching me with the puppy eyes that never failed.

I muttered low enough that I could barely hear myself, but it was loud enough for Naoki. She leaped off the bench and let out a tiny squeal.

"We'll go tomorrow!" she said, grabbing my hands and pulling me to my feet. "And I want Tamaki!"

Ouran High School. My aunt and uncle had assured me that I would be much happier there, which was just a nice way of saying that it was too much of a hassle to keep me in my normal high school. I had been allowed to finish middle school, but this year I had been whisked away from the people and the life that I had come to know to live in an alien society. Damn rich bastards.

My aunt and uncle Tochikura had always been fond of me. They bestowed lavish gifts and attentions on me, more so, in fact, than they ever gave to my parents. My dad had once tried to explain to me that it was because he didn't like charity, but at that age I neither knew what he was talking about nor cared. I had pretty dresses and toys. Their intentions were innocent, but I had realized over the years that all they wanted was a reliable playmate for Naoki.

She was a month older than I was, but she was dependent on me and treated me as if I were her older sister. As clingy as Naoki tended to be, it became tiresome after a very short while, but I tolerated it. Here, no one knew me. No one knew my name. No one offered to sit with me at lunch. No one invited me to their private summer home in Paris. Overall, I didn't mind. If pretending princesses were the only escape from loneliness, I would take the solitude, but sometimes just knowing that I had someone, an acquaintance, a family member to turn to in case I felt like talking…

The problem was that, if I went to Naoki, I would be talked at more than I ever opened my mouth. She had her own circle of friends, but I was the only one who sincerely listened to her, and, being like her parents, she constantly tried to get me involved in social schemes, which in this case led to the Host Club.

I collapsed onto my bed later that night, an unintelligible groan escaping me.

_I wanna go home._


	2. The Host Club is now Open

"What fair maiden is this that honors my kingdom with her beauteous presence?"

Naoki had secured a position next to Tamaki and, true to form, swooned under the consuming charm directed at her. She had offered me the seat beside her, the side that Tamaki wasn't going to be sitting on, but I opted to do my homework instead. I had found a small table out of the way in a corner that afforded both a good view of the room and of the outside world for when I grew weary of the nonsense inside.

Like now.

With a disgusted sigh, I propped my elbows on the table and leaned my forehead against my hands. I didn't want to do my homework. I didn't want to be here at Ouran. I didn't want to be here in this room. But as Naoki was in control of my time, this torment wasn't nearly over yet.

I had had no idea that there were so many hosts. I had figured that Tamaki single-handedly juggled the mass of giggling girls and only required a hired hand when things became too much for him to handle alone. I was wrong on both accounts. There were several hosts altogether, but Tamaki probably could have managed just fine without them anyway.

I knew Hikaru and Kaoru. I had some classes with them. In those classes, however, I had not been exposed to the nasty bit of drama that they were performing right now, and I had never in my wildest dreams guessed that so many girls would encourage that. I had heard of Mitskuni—or Honey as they called him here—but my account had been based on his karate feats. I had been expecting someone…well, taller for one, but also a bit more mature. And Mori? What as he doing here? A sensible guy like him participating in such a club?

And that Kyouya.

He smiled prettily enough as he coaxed the girls through the door, but it was obvious that he thought himself above everyone else. He was not dressed up in medieval garb like the rest of the boys, and he was not even socializing at all, deliberately ignoring the young girls who were gazing wistfully at him, typing away on his laptop. He was on the other side of the room, so I didn't have to notice his arrogance unless I wanted to, but I did have to deal with the girls' sighs whenever there was a slight pause in the clicking of fingers on keys. Being involved with a club like that made me lose respect for him as it was, but such blatant pride and disregard for his duty made him even lower in my estimation.

"Oh, Tamaki!" half a dozen girls—my cousin included—squealed. The blond bowed low to the girls, causing the visor of his helmet to slam down. There were peals of laughter as Tamaki strutted away, leaving the girls to their drinks.

"Ah, Kyouya," I shifted my chair a little to watch the infamous host. Tamaki slumped down on the couch next to his friend, who didn't look up.

"Sick of it already?" Kyouya asked.

"Exhausted, spent, weary, yes; but never sick of it," Tamaki exhaled gallantly. He blew a kiss in the direction of the couch he had just left, resulting in a mad scramble to catch the invisible kiss. Kyouya shook his head.

"But why aren't you entertaining?" Tamaki asked, only just realizing.

"I had to excuse my designators. There are some finance matters that I need to sort out."

"Maybe if you spent less time sorting out and more time entertaining, there would be nothing to sort out at all."

Kyouya gave a dry smile. "I prefer sorting out in any case."

"Kyouya," Tamaki whined.

Kyouya did not respond.

"Tamaki!" the girls had finished their refreshment and now desired a different sort of distraction. Tamaki quickly sprang to his feet despite the heavy armor and struck a pose.

"I am coming, fair maidens," he said, waving a handkerchief in their direction. He swept his arm around and pointed at Kyouya, his finger barely an inch away from his face.

"Kyouya, you will entertain,"

"There are no girls to entertain," Kyouya replied, shifting slightly to escape Tamaki's finger but not looking up.

Tamaki's jaw dropped. "The room is full of girls waiting to be flattered. Pick one." He scanned the room. I averted my eyes just in time.

"There, Kyouya, I've found an assignment for you."

_Me? _I sincerely hoped not, hoped that Tamaki's eye had landed on someone else. I wanted to look, but I didn't dare look straight-out. I didn't want them to know I had been listening.

There was silence for a moment, and then "No."

"What, Kyouya? Why not? Are you a host, or aren't you?"

"No."

"She looks nice enough—"

Now I had to know. My vanity had been appealed to. Under pretense of finding Naoki, I swung my head around, passing my eyes over the two of them. I almost gave myself away when I saw them looking. Instead, I swallowed my embarrassment, found Naoki talking with Honey, and made a show of settling back into my chair and staring out the window.

There was silence. For awhile I thought that they had finished their conversation or else lowered their voices, but soon I head Kyouya again.

"Tamaki, you can't tell one girl from another. Go back to your designators before they get upset. You're wasting your time."

I could only assume that the squeaks of metal armor and excited girls meant that Tamaki had returned to his admirers. I still wasn't brave enough to look.

I shouldn't have been upset. I had expected nothing from this society, and had made no effort to ingratiate myself in it. Still, I suppose there was that part of everyone that didn't like to be excused as common…

_"She looks nice enough—"_

_"Tamaki, you can't tell one girl from another."_

Huh.

* * *

"Can we go back tomorrow Amaya?" It was after dinner. Naoki was perched on my bed, watching me do my homework. What little work on it that I had managed to do at the host club was proved by Naoki's inspection to be wrong. For all her childishness, she was actually much better than I was in math. I had asked her for her help, but she took it as an invitation to recount everything Tamaki had said to her for the fifth time that day. The stress of math and the silliness of Naoki had combined to make me one very frustrated person. I was probably upset about being snubbed too, but I wouldn't admit it to anyone, myself especially.

"You are welcome to go back whenever you want."

"Will you go with me?"

I scrubbed furiously at my paper with my stubborn eraser, but the problem was still there, albeit torn and smudged.

"No."


	3. Chapter 3

"Can I get you any refreshment?"

I turned to face the speaker from the table that I now considered my own. Today marked a full week of frequenting the host club. Since the second day, I had become more diligent about my homework, and the time passed by relatively quickly. Throughout the week, all of the hosts—with the exception of Kyouya, of course—had tried to keep me company, but I had refused. My grades had never been as well as they were now. And just in time too, because my aunt had been threatening me just a week before with a tutor.

This host that was offering me refreshments now, however, was someone that I hadn't seen before.

Or had I?

"Fujioka Haruhi?"

"Hai. Would you like some?" She smiled. She didn't understand.

Ouran was the school of future leaders. Their classes were precisely focused and equally grueling. If I had to, I could make it through an advanced class without failing, but it wasn't very easy or convenient, so I tended to avoid them if I could. I preferred classes with less intensive matter.

The first day, however, I had been placed in a Judicial Psychology class. I sat in the back of the room because I didn't want to be there, Haruhi because she was shy. Neither of us had talked much, but enough for me to learn that Haruhi was very nice and definitely female. I transferred out of that class as fast as I could and hadn't seen her since. She was just another face in the sea of students. I wouldn't have recognized her now but for her eyes.

"What are you doing here?"

She cocked her head to one side, studying me. "I am…" at once her eyes widened. "Nakasawa Amaya?" she asked tentatively.

"Hai."

She slipped into the chair across from me with an unsure smile. She poured two cups of tea and handed one to me.

"How did you end up here?"

She looked down at her uniform as though only just realizing that she was masquerading as a boy.

"I'm in debt. I don't gamble or anything," she said hastily in response to my confused expression, "I was just a bit…clumsy is all, and this is the only way that I can work it off."

We sipped tea in silence for a short while.

"But what about you? This room is definitely not the best place to do homework."

A nostalgic look crossed her face that I didn't understand. I waved my hand in the direction of Naoki, who was captivated by Tamaki.

"You could say that I am in debt as well."

Haruhi nodded her head knowingly, but did not prod farther, for which I was thankful.

"So you just do homework and wait for her to finish?" She tilted her head to see the book spread in front of me.

"Oh! Language! I'm only in the first part of that class, and I'm finding it a bit confusing."

"I could help you sometime. It's one of the few things I do understand."

"I'd like that," she sighed.

"If you just let me know when you'd like to meet…"

She drained the rest of the tea from her cup and rose to her feet. "I'd like to work on it now, but—"

"Oy! Haruhi!"

The voice I'd come to recognize as Tamaki's rose above the low rumble of conversation that filled the room. Haruhi winced.

"But I have customers," she finished. "I'll come back when I get a chance."

She grabbed the tray that she had brought with her and went to see what Tamaki wanted with a brief smile.

I turned my attention back to the book, but was distracted again before I could make any real progress.

"So you have discovered Haruhi's secret?"

"Huh?"

Without me noticing, Kyouya, the man to proud to talk to me before I knew anything of importance, had slipped into the chair that Haruhi had just vacated. I was surprised until his words caught up with me.

"Haruhi's…oh. Yes."

He folded his arms on the table and leaned forward. "I'm going to have to ask you to keep her identity hidden," he said. "There will be serious repercussions if you don't."

I couldn't help myself. "Oh? An army of mercenaries or something like that, I suppose?"

He raised an eyebrow. "A private police force, in fact."

I had only been joking. Not even my aunt and uncle were so eccentric about their wealth that they hired bodyguards. What these rich people wouldn't think of next…

I tried to hide my expression, but nothing escaped the shadow king "Is there a problem?"

I shook my head. "No…but do you ever get tired of threatening and intimidating people with your wealth?"

He looked taken back but rallied quickly. "Perhaps, were your circumstances different, you would understand the advantages of such a situation."

I wanted to fight back. I could have, but something he said caught me off guard.

"What do you know of my situation?"

His face, which had contorted into a sort of triumphant malice, sobered. "Enough."

He placed his hands heavily on the table and pushed himself up. Still lost in thought and memories, my eyes were fixed on the table, focused blindly on his hands, on his long pale fingers splayed across the dark surface of the wood.

"Have we reached an understanding?"

"I'll protect Haruhi's secret for Haruhi. I owe you nothing."

I still didn't look up, and could only imagine his expression.

"That's good enough," he said after a few moments. He removed his hands from the table, and I heard the sound of his footsteps growing fainter. I tried to return to my homework, but my mind was in the past. I tried to look out the window to distract me, but all saw only grey.

* * *

Since I had recognized Haruhi, frequenting the host club no longer seemed like such a chore. I didn't even need to bring my homework anymore. I could pose as one of Haruhi's rabid fans and hold conversations with her that way. It didn't even matter when other girls were around. They were too lost in fantasies with a male Haruhi to notice the hidden meanings in our conversations.

It wasn't until Naoki and I returned to her house one day to her parents talking to a certain student I remembered that the price of a few meaningful conversations had been a dip in my grades again.

He was a second year student, so I didn't know him well, but I recognized him from brief skirmishes in the halls.

His name was Fumio, and he was the only child of the president of an international bank. It wasn't always easy to remember, though. The attitude and superior air was there, but he lacked the dominant stature that all his peers seemed to possess. He was shorter than even Naoki with a chubby face and limp, stringy hair that fell on either side of his dangerously small eyes.

_Oh, no._

"A tutor really isn't necessary, aunt Kaede."

She shook her head, a sickly sweet smile plastered to her face. "Not according to your grades."

"They'll get better, I've just been…distracted lately."

Naoki slipped past her mother and into the kitchen. I really didn't think that they would mind if they out that she had been spending her time at the host club instead of the tea party club that she had told them, but she had asked me to keep it secret anyway.

"Hmm…" she pressed the finger that she had been waving in my face to her lips. "Fumio will tutor you for one week, and we'll see how it goes from there." She smiled innocently at me. "Okay?"

As though I had a choice in the matter.

* * *

Fumio was everything I had expected. He was presumptuous, condescending, and the type of smart that is almost frightening. He was bitter that he wasn't first in the class, and blamed it on the fact that Kyouya was friends with the superintendent's son. After just one session of after school tutoring, I was wishing for the host club.

* * *

_Now look, you and I both know that my writing isn't perfect. My information is limited, and my facts therefore slightly skewed. I'm sure that there were some grammar mistakes that you're dying to point out, some tense errors that were glaringly obvious. The lengths of the chapters are inconsistent, and the story is moving along too fast and without sufficient detail. I'm not knowledgeable in the field of Mary Sues, and I never will be unless one of you people that has taken the trouble to read this far lets me know if I am fulfilling Ouran fanfiction standards. The romance will come, the plot will thicken…all that good stuff. I won't threaten to stop writing if no one reviews, because I know that I want to finish it and there's no point in writing it solely for myself. I'll just keep on trucking._

_I guess I can understand your possible motives...If you are anything like me, sometimes it's nice to just read through a romantic story full of clichés and not feel up to leaving a review. Some people don't want to attach their name to a criticism or compliment, which is why I have enabled anonymous reviews. Basically, I would like to make Kyouya the best Mr. Darcy he can be, but it's not going to happen right unless I figure out what I need to do differently. Let's make it happen._


	4. Chapter 4

_Alright. I give up. Here's the next chapter. Knock yourselves out._

* * *

"But why does the coefficient disappear?" 

Fumio readjusted his glasses and looked sideways at me with a familiar sigh. "It doesn't disappear."

"Then where did it go?"

"Just…don't worry about that for now. It comes back later."

I let out a recognizable sigh of my own and settled back into my chair. What might have once had the potential to be helpful had turned into a vicious cycle of Fumio making matters worse, which meant that my grades hadn't improved, which meant that Fumio was still around.

"Amaya!"

Naoki always came to 'pick me up' after the host club was over. I was grateful. She could answer more of my questions than Fumio could, I felt more comfortable asking her questions anyway, and I had the sneaking suspicion that Fumio had never been close to a girl before, and he mistook the new experience as mutual infatuation.

"There is going to be a dance!" she squealed. "The host club is putting it on!"

"Mmh," I mumbled, gathering my belongings. In light of my recent revelations, I didn't like where this was heading.

"Of course, people are welcome to go on dates, but every girl can dance with whichever of the host club they want!" she shrieked. I didn't bother replying. "Aren't you excited?"

"Not really."

"But you have to go. Mom already bought our dresses two days ago."

If Naoki had already known about this, why was she only telling me now that Fumio was around? I had my suspicions. Naoki loved playing matchmaker.

"Are you going to the dance, Fumio?"

Fumio, who had been pretending to be absorbed in reading but who was in reality listening to every word that had passed between us, looked up.

"It's not just girls who are invited, you know," she told him. "The host club can't possibly dance with every girl at once, so there will be plenty to go around."

"Do you even like dancing Fumio?" I asked. He definitely wasn't the charming type who could use dancing to their advantage to win girls, and the more he realized that, the better, for every girl involved.

"As a matter of fact…" an unexpected smile crossed his features, "I'm taking a ballroom dancing class this semester. I'm very good. If you would be so kind as to let me escort you to the dance, I'll prove it to you."

Naoki shrieked. "Oh, Amaya! That's so cute! You should definitely go!"

"But I…don't…"

"Amaya…After all, Fumio has been helping you with your homework…"

_After all…_

"What color is her dress?"

"I think it's a sort of red…"

Fumio and Naoki didn't require my help to work out the details. They didn't even require my acceptance, for that matter.

There was a time, I remembered as they chattered on, when I wouldn't have cared. I would have bowed low with several elaborate flourishes, gathered up the pieces of my life, and moved on. It was just here, at Ouran, where the students had already shown themselves to be prejudiced and judgmental…the rich could afford to give offense, I suppose, at least the more important ones, anyway. They didn't have friends, they had allies. They didn't have fun, they had purpose. Instead of defending their morals, they worried about their dignity and pride. For examples outside my home environment…I found myself thinking of the host club.

Well, not exactly.

Mori oozed superiority, but he didn't flaunt it. Honey took advantage of his position, but he was innocent about it. The twins…they were just having fun. From what Naoki told me about how they used to be, it was a good thing. Even Tamaki, when he wasn't trying to seduce me, had a big heart and a positive personality.

It wasn't the host club that bothered me, I realized, it was Kyouya. He was the epitome of a spoiled rich brat. He probably didn't care a bit about the rest of the hosts. He was only in it for the benefits, whatever they were in this situation. Connections with other prominent families, most likely. All he cared about was money and power. Haruhi had let drop occasional hints of how the club treated her outside school, and Kyouya was as unpleasant and proud as ever. He was rude to her because she had no money. He thought of me as nothing for the same reason. He had offended me, and that was reason enough for me to hate him in return.

Oh well. Avoiding him was no difficulty. It was making him realize what an idiot he was that was the hard part.

* * *

"Oh! But I told Fumio that your dress was red…" 

_Too bad._

"Red would have looked so good with your hair…"

_Oh well. _

"I guess green doesn't look too bad…"

_Yup. _

"But Fumio will be wearing red…"

_What a shame. _

Naoki required no response. She was content to dominate the conversation so long as I sat still and let her fuss over my hair.

Thanks to my cousin, Fumio's limo would be arriving soon to take us to the dance. She had no date of her own. She wanted to be wholly available for the host club. I, on the other hand…

A maid appeared at the door. "Master Fumio has arrived," she said.

Naoki jammed the last pin into my hair and whirled away, looking for her purse. I rose slowly to my feet and followed Naoki out the door, flicking off the light behind me.

_Here we go…_

_

* * *

_

"Isn't it gorgeous, Amaya?"

I was fully prepared to mutter my noncommittal agreement when I actually looked at the scene. It was a beautiful night, in any case. Stars hung thick and heavy over the school. Lights shone from every window of the Central Building, illuminating the cherry trees and the blossoms that sometimes flew from them when a gentle breeze brushed past.

"It is beautiful," I exhaled. And suddenly, the evening seemed less dim.

Half on accident, half on purpose, I left Fumio behind as I followed Naoki into the hall, which was already overflowing with people.

She was aiming for her group of co-conspirators. I stayed, knowing that there was no one else in the room to talk to besides Fumio.

"But do you know who he is?"

"What? Who?" Naoki lost no time in getting involved on the gossip.

"Over there!" one of them pointed.

A new student, obviously. But I had to admit, he cut a dashing figure. For a moment, I felt my sanity falter, and wanted to know with the rest of them who he was. He didn't seem proud, at least.

He stood on the balcony, a little apart from the group of hosts, scanning the people below him. When he saw our group, all of us staring fixedly at us, a smile lit his features and he began walking towards us.

"Oh, quick, compose yourself."

"Is my hair okay?"

"Is my makeup smudged?"

"I'm so glad I wore this dress."

I had managed to convince myself that the flutters in my stomach were from the overall excitement of the evening, and told myself it had nothing to do with this stranger, who happened to have devilishly good looks, who happened to be heading in our direction.

"Ladies," he bowed low when he reached us. The butterflies in my stomach stopped mid-flutter. Was he just another womanizer like Tamaki?

"I am Narahashi Taro. I was wondering if I might be troubled for an introduction."

And then, I realized that I didn't even care if he was.

Taro had dark brown hair and light brown eyes, which looked up at us from his deep bow. Everyone was too captivated to speak. Naoki recovered herself first. Everyone else followed suit before too long.

I stood slightly apart from the group, wondering what had just happened to me. I was supposed to be the sensible one. I wasn't Naoki, who flung herself at every man she met. I was me, who kept to herself and could never find a man who suited her. Before long, though, I was the only one who hadn't introduced myself, so Naoki did it for me.

"That's my cousin, Amaya," she said.

He nodded at each of us in turn and then, despite the chatterboxes present, an awkward silence fell.

"What brings you to Ouran?" I finally asked.

"My parents wanted me to get a good education," he smiled, grateful for the conversation. "But it's too far a distance from where I live, so I'm staying with one of the families here."

"What class are you in?"

"The second year. Same as my host."

He waved a hand back in the direction of the balcony, where the host club were whispering amongst themselves.

"Which one?"

His face darkened a bit. "Ootori Kyouya."

_Well, no wonder._

"Do you like dancing?" one of the other girls had finally managed to come up with a question.

"Absolutely," he said, "And I hope to dance with as many people as I can. If I'm going to be a host while I'm here, it's best if I get to know everyone."

"A host?" Naoki squealed.

A touch on my arm pulled me out of the new world I had stepped into. Fumio had found me. One by one, the lights shut off, Fumio, Taro, the rest of the girls and I turned to face the balcony, where Tamaki had begun to speak

"Welcome!" the room was instantly flooded with light.

"We wish you to enjoy this dance with all of our host members," the speaker was Kyouya. Before I could stop myself, I let out a quiet snort of disbelief. Taro looked down at me and raised an eyebrow. I shook my head and averted my eyes.

"Also, to the lady who displays the best dance, to the guest who is chosen as the queen tonight, you shall receive a warm kiss from our king on your cheek."

Tamaki's next words were drowned out with screams, and soon after the music began.

Taro turned to me. "Would you like—"

I would have liked. I would have liked very much, but Taro stopped when he saw Fumio dragging me out to the floor. I looked apologetically back at Taro. He gave an understanding smile and nodded.

"I'll find you later," he mouthed as Naoki swept him away with her.

Oh, let it be so.

* * *

yeah, that's right MizzChocolate or whatever your name is. I'm using the same exact words 


	5. Chapter 5

Professional ballroom dancer, my left foot.

And my right foot, for that matter. Fumio stepped on them both.

By the time Fumio finally released me, I was ready to forswear dancing and its accompanying humiliation altogether, Taro or not. Fortunately, the opportunity to dance with Taro came soon after my release from Fumio, and his wit, humor, and—most importantly—dancing ability quickly made up for the ordeal I had just been put through.

He twirled me expertly around the wide ballroom, and the ease with which he led me through the steps nearly made me feel like a professional myself. Even when I got carried away with myself and nearly tripped, Taro managed to catch me, and smoothly turned my fall into an elegant dance maneuver. I laughed, stumbling back to regain my balance, and bumped into someone.

I whirled around, ready to apologize, but the words were stillborn as I looked up into the cold eyes of Kyouya.

"Forgive me," he said, taking a step back.

I mumbled something, though I can't remember now if it was an apology or an invitation for him to stuff himself.

"Are you enjoying yourself?"

It caught me off guard.

"I…yeah?"

"Wonderful." His tone belied the expression of happiness that that word might have given. "The host club is here for your enjoyment. Would you care to dance?"

_Tamaki must have blackmailed him_.

"I already have a partner, but thank you."

Thanking him put a bitter taste in my mouth, but I got my revenge when he looked past me and saw Taro. Something in his expression tightened. He bowed curtly and stepped away after Tamaki.

I watched him leave, disgusted.

"What was that all about?" Taro asked, grabbing my hand and spinning me back into the rhythm of the music.

I scoffed. "You're the one staying with him. You should know."

He smiled. "I was under the impression that he was only a jerk at home. I hoped that maybe he hid his true self at school."

"He pretends to, I think. And for the most part, people believe him."

"But not you?" He sounded impressed. I felt proud of myself.

"You'll see, once you start classes here, and once you're an official member of the host club." He would be a member of the host club. I went to the host club. Already, it felt like less of a chore, though I knew he would be every bit as popular as Tamaki. Whether my surge of gratitude at getting to see him there was part of my romantic fancy, or just the comfort of having another friend that I could talk to, for the first time since having to transfer high schools, I felt that maybe Ouran wasn't such a terrible place after all.

My exceptional happiness was short-lived, as Taro was in high demand. Naoki was in line after me. She winked at me as Taro traded partners. Not condescending, or proud, just cousinly.

Finally left alone with my thoughts, it occurred to me that I hadn't talked to Haruhi all night. I counted six people in host club uniform and Taro—no Haruhi.

I scanned the room, even though I knew I probably wouldn't be able to talk to her. She was there to dance; she literally couldn't afford to take a break for herself. But she wasn't on the dance floor now. One by one, I lost track of the positions of the host club, until Taro was practically the only man on the ballroom floor, single-handedly entertaining the anxious ladies.

_Tamaki would be jealous of him in no time._ I laughed to myself, imagining his reaction when Taro would steal his regular clients away from him.

A movement caught my eye, and a flash of color that was too dull to belong to a dress. Fumio was climbing up the stairs, headed in my direction.

Mumbling an apology as I pushed through a group of girls waiting for the hosts to return, I ducked down so that he couldn't see me over their heads and slipped into a door that was slightly open. I didn't close it behind me, in case it was locked, but I stepped quickly away and around the corner, in case Fumio had seen me come in here. I watched the door breathlessly from behind a curtain, waiting for the slightest movement to hide myself.

It was not the door to the ballroom that made me leap back behind the folds of the heavy—and no doubt expensive—curtain. I heard voices coming from the hall behind me. The echo throughout the hallway obscured the words, but the confidence of the louder voice could only belong to Tamaki. I pushed myself against the wall, praying the curtains were long enough that my feet weren't visible.

I could only imagine what was going on. The voices and footsteps stopped. A door opened. A strangled cry, someone shouted. And then, thankfully, footsteps racing down the hall. That much, at least, I could identify. I peeked out hopefully, and saw Tamaki and Haruhi.

I meant to pull my head back, but Haruhi was gazing at Tamaki with an expression of adoration that I had never thought possible from her. Not love, or romance, necessarily, just curiosity, and dawning respect.

I nearly laughed and gave myself away. I couldn't help myself. I almost wished I were meddlesome like Naoki. She got a sick pleasure of trying to match people up. And here, I knew, was a match so ironic and intriguing that anyone who liked to play cupid would have given a great deal for such a challenge. Besides, I knew enough about Haruhi to realize that Tamaki pestered her more often than not.

But the moment passed, and Tamaki and Haruhi left. I eventually followed them back to the ballroom and to Fumio, resigned to my fate.

_

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So, I thought I had deleted this story. But now I found it. Obviously. No guarantees when the next update is going to come, if there is a next update. It was pure chance that I felt like writing this today. I mean, I have dialogue and scenes planned for the future, it's just too much work getting there. We'll see.


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